


Thunderstruck

by Jaded



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Luke's mechanical hand, Mutual Pining, Repressed Feelings, Romance, Tenderness, hypercompetantcy kink, sorta?, this whole relationship is a long-ass slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-09-24 10:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9720281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaded/pseuds/Jaded
Summary: On an excursion to search for rumored Jedi artifacts, Luke Skywalker and Mara Jade find themselves injured and stranded together in the branches of a tree during a flash flood. Luke's mechanical hand malfunctions, and Mara shows surprising skill in repairing it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frangipani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frangipani/gifts).



Mara Jade had only heard the scent of the bloom of the halseph’bor tree described before in one of the grand operas of the Imperial court, an overwrought tragedy about political betrayal and unrequited love, a factually inaccurate and trite piece of storytelling that she secretly loved for these very reasons despite her usually pragmatic nature. She had never experienced the flower’s soft perfume until now, though, and at the moment, it was the only pleasant thing going for her and Luke as they huddled in the crook between the halseph’bor thick trunk and one of its heavier branches, hoping that the storm would pass before they were struck by yet another bolt of lightning.

 

A freak thunderstorm had rolled through the jungle on their way to Flyntock City, where Luke had heard about a lead on some Jedi artifacts. Within minutes, the jungle floor had flooded with a rushing tide that screamed toward a canyon a stone’s throw from where they had taken refuge in the arms of the halseph’bor tree. But this was not before a bolt of lightning had struck the ground, the electric surge stunning them both before they were able to climb to safety. The burns were painful, but nothing that the Force couldn’t help heal. But what the Force could not heal Luke’s mechanical hand, which sat now frozen on his lap. But she could.

 

Luke had suffered the worst of the burns from the strike, hit by a side splash of lightning, the bolt jumping from a now-destroyed halseph’bor tree to him, then to the ground. Luke and his mechanical hand rendered useless by the electrical surge. Left with only one usable hand, Mara had had to wrap her arms around his torso and make the leap them to safety, with some help from the Force. It had just been in the knick of time, too, even though she stumbled with the effort, still not quite sure footed in the Force, her training, as always, left unfinished by her own choice, 

 

The flood waters had come screaming through the jungle floor, washing away their ration packs and the landspeeder they’d “borrowed” back at Kelindra Station, which, without their vehicles, would be a three-day hike from their shelter in the branches.

 

“You have to hold still,” she said, pushing her soaked braid off her shoulder before easing her cloak over him, conscious of the bright pink marks on his skin, the burnt and burst blood vessels that looked themselves like bolts of lightning, “and rest. Stop being so stubborn.”

 

He grimaced as he let her lean him against the trunk. “You’re lecturing me about being stubborn?”

 

She made a face, part concern; mostly irritation. “You have to heal, farmboy.”

 

“So do you.”

 

Then he growled with sudden pain, his good hand going to his ear. He swayed on the spot and sighed in disbelief. He held up his fingertip for her to see. Clear liquid cling to his skin. “My eardrum just burst.”

 

“That, you’re upset about?” she tisked. “You should be glad you’re not dead. That we’re not both dead.” On Myrkr, she had seen more than a few people brought back to the base in body bags after one of the vicious lightning storms swept through the forests. She had been glad for the ysalamiri then, to not feel the shockwave of life set on fire. Death by lightning could be swift, but when it wasn’t, it was terrible. Nobody wanted to burn.

 

Luke winced again, shaking his head as if to clear it. “This wasn’t how I had imagined this expedition.”

 

“Do your ‘expeditions,’” she bit, “ever go according to plan?”

 

He gave a soft laugh, then groaned with the pain. “No, I don’t suppose they do.” Then, a little defensive, “You know, sometimes they do go better than expected.”

 

“Name one time.”

 

“Put me on the spot, will you?”

 

Mara shrugged. “It’s your punishment for making me to spend this much time with you trekking through forests.”

 

Her head was turned, but she could still see, out of the corner of her eye, the slight upturn of his mouth, the way his eyes cast down, almost shy. She coughed then, not to bring him out of his reverie, but to prevent falling into one herself.

 

“You should get some rest, too, Mara,” he said. “I may have taken the brunt, but you weren’t unscathed. We both should put ourselves in some healing trances now, just in case.”

 

“I’ll do that, but I’m going to fix your hand, first.” Mara knelt down next to him and reached into her hair, prying a metal hairpin from under her braid. The soft, tiny hairs the pin had been holding up dropped to her neck, sticking to her sweaty skin. “If we need to move quickly, we need you to be fully functional, or else it’s going to be a lot harder.” She smiled wryly to herself. “I can’t be there to save you all the time, Skywalker.”

 

She popped open the panel in his wrist, touched the sim-skin and marveled at how real and warm it felt. It was a mess of wires and servos, and she gently probed it with her pin. He watched her in silence, but his mind humming as he took in her handiwork. Mara did her best to ignore it and focused instead on the fine machinery inside.

 

“It looks like the wire to the bioelectrical power supply just got knocked out by the force of the bolt hitting you,” she murmured, leaning in closer to look inside. “Just a minute,” she said. 

 

“Mara,” he started, but the rest of his words fell away. Then Luke reached out his good hand and touched her cheek, and she looked down at it, not flinching away. His fingers were gentle, but they were also etched with callouses from holding blasters and lightsabers over a decade of war. 

 

Was this what it was like to be touched with kindness, she wondered to herself. It had been so long. Something else flickered in her mind, another emotion, but it was a jumble of confusion–his own and hers–and she felt her thoughts jump, and Mara felt as though she were falling over a cliff. She took a deep breath.

 

“I used to be a hyperdrive mechanic,” she said, shutting the panel, then removing his fingertips from her skin. “I can’t fix everything, but this? Today, I can.”

 

He looked at her thoughtfully, blue eyes a darker shade than she’d seen them before. He shifted toward her, said her name again, and she felt an ache in her chest that felt undeserved.

 

Mara swallowed, and put her hand on his chest. “Rest,” she said. “And we can talk later.”


	2. Chapter 2

The storms rolled away by morning and Luke had healed enough that he only needed her to brace him slightly when they leapt back down to the forest floor. The mud was thick and they both sank two inches every time they took a step, but there was no danger of being washed away so Mara considered that a win.

 

“It’s a little like walking on sand,” Luke remarked as they picked their way to the edge of the forest. “Slow going but doable.”

 

“The desert will never leave you, will it?” she said, and she felt something quirk through the Force. She turned and looked at him, but he only stared at her, thoughtful. “What?” she finally asked.

 

“That was where you first met me. The desert on Tatooine.”

 

Mara picked up the pace again, pulling ahead of him. “And as we both recall, it was the first time I tried to kill you and failed.”

 

“Story of your life,” he said, and she snorted.

 

“I suppose so. I guess my punishment for that failure is having to spend time with you.”

 

“There are worst things,” he said.

 

She smiled to herself and pushed the branches of a bush aside to let them both through. “That’s debatable.”

 

+

 

It had taken most of the day to find their way out, and though the planet was a jungle planet it was still winter in this hemisphere and the sunlight was fading when they found the abandoned shack just outside the forest.  The windows were blown out, singe marks from blaster fire darkening the graying wood, but it was shelter. Luke picked his way around the perimeter to check that it was secure and Mara made her way through the building.

 

She lit the glowrod and covered her nose for the dust as she surveyed the interior. There was a single bed, a chair, and what passed for a kitchenette: a broken stove and a pantry with a door. There were a few provisions inside--expired and nasty to be sure, but food was food, and they just needed enough energy to get to Flyntock City.

 

Luke knocked on the door to announce himself and stepped in. The light of dusk cast him in blue and purple. “All clear outside,” he called, pulling off his cloak. Mara swung the glowrod toward him and saw him grimace. “There’s a well outside for fresh water, too.”

 

She shut down the urge to ask him if he was still hurt--he obviously was and he didn’t need her hovering nor did she need to be the one doing any hovering--and instead asked, “How is the hand?”

 

Luke flexed it, the fingers rolling with movement. “You’re a wizard with a hairpin.”

 

“Good,” she said, satisfied. “Now, time for food and rest.”

 

Mara peeled open a ration bar and Luke made a face as it began to crumble into her hands. She caught the hard crumbs with her palm and ordered him to open his. Spilling the food into his hand, she watched him bring it to his mouth.

 

“This makes me miss the food Yoda served me on Dagobah.”

 

“Grub stew?” she said, remembering the stories he had told her about his old master.

 

“I’ll make it for you some time,” he said. Then softer, like a promise of something else, he said, “You’ll see.”

 

Her stomach squeezed and she bit into her half of the ration bar until her mouth was dry and the hunger in her belly was satiated. She jumped to her feet. “We should get some rest, you especially.” Marching over to the bed, she gathered up her cloak and lay it on the floor, taking Luke’s and crumpling it up as a pillow.

 

“You take the bed tonight.”

 

“Mara…”

 

“Stop being a martyr…”

 

“What, and let you be one?” He stood up and walked toward her.

 

“I’m being practical,” she said, and he was suddenly within a foot of her, close enough that she could see that the shadow on his face was not the play of light and dark but fine blonde hairs of his beard growing in. Luke rubbed at his chin and she placed a hand on his shoulder. She turned him and he was willing in her hands, and with a gentle shove, she pushed him onto the bed.

 

“The sooner you can heal from your burns, the faster we can move. The blaster marks here are old but this is still an old Imperial planet, and everyone in the universe knows your face.”

 

His shoulders slumped but he didn’t argue with her anymore. He pulled off his mud-caked boots and put them at the foot of the bed. The mattress pushed up dust around them both. Mara sneezed and the tension that had slowly been building between them again like electricity before a storm snapped and fizzled out.

 

She settled onto the floor onto the cloak. The branches of the halseph’bor tree had been more comfortable than this, but at least there was no dangering of falling. She curled up, legs pulled to her chest, and tried to close her eyes to sleep.

 

Luke shifted above her on the bed, the springs of the mattress squeaking with age and his weight. She heard him groan softly as he flipped around. Then she felt it, a sharp stab through the Force as phantom pain lanced through the air.

 

She squeezed her eyes and pursed her lips together, the sat up. “Are you okay?”

 

Luke’s face was at the edge of the bed facing her, the height just right so that they were eye to eye.

 

“The lightning burns were a little deeper than I had thought,” he said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t shielding it better. You shouldn’t have had to feel it.”

 

She waved a hand in the dark. “That’s the least of my concerns. The trance didn’t help?”

 

“It helped some, but,” he tapped on a spot on his chest, “right here hurts like I got hit by an asteroid.”

 

“Can I see?” she said, and felt herself struggling to take a breath. _The dust,_ she thought. _The stupid dust._

 

He pulled himself up into sitting position and Mara rose up and settled next to him on the twin mattress. She pulled out the glowrod from where it rested near her feet and lit it.

 

“Beside once being a hyperdrive mechanic, were you also at one point a doctor?” he asked playfully as he began to undo his tunic.

 

“I dabbled in many things. Ship repair, smuggling, some light assassination.”

 

Luke chuckled and pushed open his tunic. Mara shone the glowrod to get a better look at his burns. There was a bright red splotch on his skin near his right arm, and exploded capillaries branched out from there, pink and tender.

 

“Maybe we shouldn’t have pushed so hard today,” she murmured. “Is there anything I can do help you?” she said. “With the, you know,” she said, waving her hand again, “the Force?”

 

“A little training?” he asked wryly.

 

“You say it like it’s a dirty word,” she said.

 

“You act like it’s a dirty word when I bring it up.”

 

She smiled and looked up at him, and it seemed to take him off his guard, his expression of humor blinking into surprise and then transforming into something she’d seen in his eyes before when she found him looking at her these days. Something beyond the realm of student and teacher. Beyond friendship. Maybe it had always been there, though, and she had just refused to see it herself. She sometimes could be blind to things--and willfully so. But the fact of that didn’t make it easier to swallow.

 

She looked away from him and she felt him catch her by the hand, the hand she had repaired just the day before, the hand that felt like him and not a machine with wires and metal and stretched over with synthskin. It made her think of Mount Tantiss, of grabbing his hand outside of C’baoth’s chamber and telling him, _promise that you’ll kill me before you let him turn me_.

 

What was it that he had told her then? _Whatever happens in there, you won’t have to face him alone_. But she had faced so much alone since then too, even among friends and and colleagues, some of it self-imposed. Most of it, really.

 

“Mara?” he called, and she felt a buzzing in her brain, distant like a song. It wasn’t like her old master’s call, though, nothing like his command to kill the man sitting next to her now. It made her think again of the Imperial operas, of the beginnings of an aria. Of a love song that made her want to weep with feelings she had never felt in her own life.

 

She felt his other hand slide onto the curve of her jaw, and finally Mara turned back to look at him. His blue eyes flared hot in the last of the evening light, and he searched her face, a million questions waiting on his lips. But she knew that there were only two answers to whatever he could dare ask her now: yes or no.

 

 _And why not yes this time?_ she thought, closing the distance between them.

 

“Don’t say a word,” she breathed, then leaned into his bare chest, hands skimming against the bruised skin, and kissed him, a thunderclap on a mountain, a thousand yeses all buried into one.  

  



End file.
